The Dreams of a Chevalier
by Aldedron
Summary: This angsty little oneshot is the definition of a drabble about that scene in EP 40 when Haji holds Saya's hand as she sleeps


**A/N**  
I was just struck by a sudden muse… To write the timeline, I'm having to re-watch the whole series. As a result, I've been drawing a lot lately. Eventually, I started drawing HajiXSaya pictures, of course, and needed something to look off of: I have a screenshot of when Haji places his hand overtop Saya's in EP 40. Thus, I was immediately forced to write a drabbly rant about that insanely short scene with an ending that makes absolutely no sense unless you're in my head… If you get the ending, congrats; somehow, you read my mind. If you don't… uh… good luck with that

By the way, I started writing this at about 3AM and finished around 7AM, no breaks, while listening to "Coward Mont Blanc" by GUMI (弱虫モンブラン)

As for the Japanese… translations at the bottom. All verbal lines copied from the English sub on AnimerFreak . tv

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**The Dreams of a Chevalier**

_Haji… when everything ends…_

A rhythmic beat, soothing in its consistency, agonizing in its pervasiveness. That steady _thump-thump_ which pounded forevermore in his brain, thrumming in the air, measuring each tick of Time's steady hand—he could always hear it, near or far, conscious or _non_. This pentameter was always accompanied by a feather-soft tickling of the air, angelic scent through rosy lips, which was oftentimes tainted with a fiery rush of feverish, animalistic pants that seared the atmosphere.

In her sleep, the listless drifting of mind freed from body, her breath was cool and calm, heartbeat an even _thump-thump_ which powered his own.

It was in these times of non-silence when his mind whirred beyond control.

With Saya sleeping, he couldn't play his cello, lest she be woken. While he was in mental agony when she slept, it was never he who ever concerned him, but instead his Queen's welfare, and she most certainly deserved her rest. Thus, no cello. Nor did he have any books; being an eternal nomad, it wasn't exactly conventional to go around carrying a stack of books to read, nor did he ever bother going outside the apartment to purchase a novel at the risk of missing his Queen's waking and every precious millisecond of her following consciousness. Haji being Haji, forevermore alone even when engulfed in throngs of people, he didn't cajole anyone into a conversation or game; he'd always been a lone wolf of few words, anyways. And, being one born of poverty in the nineteenth century, he knew near nothing of other forms of entertainment in this modern era such as television or cellular telephones or mp3 players.

As a result of all this circumstance, quite obviously, he was left with little more than his own thoughts.

During periods of in-between when the air was tranquil, one pastime consisted of simply watching his Queen sleep. There was something oddly comforting about the knowledge of her mind floating through a serene paradise that settled contentedly in his gut. He so easily became entranced by the glow of her lotus-pale skin in the moonlight, a soft radiance alighting the room and his brooding eyes. Everything backed with that rhythmic _thump-thump_ accompanied by her melodic whooshes of air which smelt unadulteratedly of Saya. How the hours flew by in those peaceful times which were rarer than diamond and gold, than giant crystal caves and dodo feathers. Despite her sleep and mental distance from him, Haji always felt surprisingly content during these periods of in-between when the air was tranquil.

But not every unconscious hour was as such.

Most were nothing short of a living death, shinigami's sickle poised to splice off his sanity.

Watching as her sweet face became enveloped in a silken film which hid her from sight. Listening as her heart _thump-thump_ed on as though decades at a time weren't passing at the pace of the ocean floor spent in absolute solitude. Tortured as her every shift and helpless cry spring from nightmares ravaging her psyche while enduring an agonizing helplessness as the knowledge that there was nothing to be done to prevent such horrors from being unintentionally relived sleep after sleep.

Her current slumber was betwixt in-betweens.

Which reminded him…

How many years had it been since she'd Awakened, again?

There was that first year under the veil of amnesia in Okinawa. Then, six months regaining her memories. Another year hunting down Chiropterans with the fervor of her every tendon and untold grievance.

This left his Red Queen with but six months left awake at best.

Two and a half years of consciousness, he totally missing out on the first year, emotionally banished the first months once more by her side. All he had was that one year of endless fighting and bloodshed, waking her when the nightmares grew too fierce, holding her when those heavy tears overflowed and emotions brimmed upon the brink of stampede. But they had been together…

Was it right that he so cherished that single year? To he who was almost always a lone wolf, forsaken in solitude, every millisecond was a precious treasure to never take for granted. He held every snap—physical or verbal—and soft touch close to his heart like velvet and diamond. Aren't most put off by a punch to the face or an insult to shake off self-loathing? Truthfully, he didn't really know, anymore. Nor did he care. As long as he could be by her side, everything would be alright…

Wouldn't it…?

The Chevalier drowning in loneliness couldn't help but shift his gaze to his Queen's sleeping countenance. It was so peaceful, so calm, so pale and cool.

It looked like death.

He who was always by her side. He who refused to let anyone bring harm to or steal her breath. He who breathed and bled for her. He who would steal her everything.

It was a curse, a brand upon his brain. What she had asked of him, wrought to give forth his word, was unforgiveable—not of her, but himself.

"_Haji. Promise me… when this is all over…_"

Her strongest wish to which she tormented his every eternally waking hour was to die.

How could he love someone who hurt so much? Even now, Haji never asked himself this question, for it never occurred to him, even in these times of endless muse. It was not a question. The question did not exist.

Her skin, pale like Jane Doe, shone eerily in the Western sun filtering through white blinds. She looked like a ghost in that bed; wiry thin, onyx locks mussed and unsure.

Dare he touch that skin, if only to assure himself as to her very existence?

The silent lover could not resist.

Her hand was cool, yet warm to his chilled flesh. It was soft and real—oh, so very real. Dare he imagine her gripping his fingers back? No, that was something she didn't often do. Something too precious to taint with fantasy. Besides, she was asleep, was she not?

Just… sleep well, lotus-pale Queen. Allow a simple selfish pleasure to this old Chevalier.

However, Fate was far too cruel to allow such a gift upon he who's given the equivalent to nothing.

This hand which he rested his own gently atop was the limb of a girl who wished to die; for he to do so, at that. Her every word was a rainstorm of molten-iron pelting his every defense and will. Saya was giving to everyone besides herself, so there must be at least one being to throw all her troubles upon: her ever loyal servant garbed in the color of an eternal night. Her every stress and frazzled wit, tear-stained grief, blood-thirsty lust and misdirected snap of wrath, frustration, exhaustion was placed upon this single man's shoulders with only her acceptance of his presence as payment. There was no way someone so cruel, so conquered by fate, would allow such an allowance to he who receives none.

It was just then when she chose to wake.

"Haji…"

Heavy-lidded with shiny onyx lashes freshly cleared of brimming tears by the same fingers which rested upon her own lifted to gaze upon her servant. Those chocolate-brown orbs which misted with exhaustion and pain directed themselves to he who had allowed himself a selfish pleasure in a moment of weakness.

He quickly removed his hand from hers, each acting as though nothing had happened.

This wasn't the first time she'd awoken to such weakness.

It was somehow more endearing than his wiping brimming tears or brushing astray bangs from gentle eyes. Somehow more intimate. Something she couldn't allow if he was to steal all chance of happiness from her rosy lips. She could not allow her Chevalier even a single moment to believe everything would work itself out and they could live selfishly for even a millisecond, lest he grow too weak in resolve to pull through with the Promise. It would only make it all the more painful for him in the end when she was released from this living death.

She was suddenly very cold, but not as she had been during her sleep.

"Minna wa?"

Haji had risen from his position kneeling at her bedside, face a mask of apathy, as usual.

Saya struggled to rise, herself, body frail, joints frozen stiff.

"They said they went out to look at apartments for our base of operations."

"Sou."

Finally mustering the strength, she shoved aside the blanket before she lost her resolve, stumbling at her lack of balance and dizzy head. Without thought, those lotus-pale digits latched onto his midnight suit.

He was her pillar of support. The Chevalier sensed had her struggle to remain vertical from the moment she sat up, and now the feeling was overpowering; however, he resisted from holding her up, monster fist clenched at his side, human limb motioning to steady her sways.

She didn't want to be supported.

"Saya, daijoubu desu ka?" He knew she hated it when he asked.

She hated it when she awoke somewhere new after fainting, well aware that he'd carried her there. She hated it when he caught her with every trip and stumble. She hated it when he hugged her close to quell burning tears. She hated it when he helped her with her every grievance. She hated it when he took all her shouts and swings without a single change in expression or even a simple protest. She hated it when he listened to her whining and frustrations when she was well aware he was constantly dealing with his own. Most of all, she hated it when he worried.

Or so she told herself, and worked to convince him was true.

"Naka samui." And not just inside.

"Samui desu?"

Whenever her Long Sleep came up, his Queen's body temperature dropped in order to conserve energy. So much time had already passed, so much energy expensed, could it be that her hibernation was approaching once more? 'Now, of all times?' wasn't so much his concern as, 'So soon…'

They both knew this to be the reason. Soon—far too soon—she would fall into a deep slumber and not reawaken. And there was nothing that could be done to forestall it.

Again and again, she told herself her torturing him was for his own benefit, lest he grow too soft to steal her breath, but she couldn't prevent her heart from clenching at that almost-expression in his eyes. Most always, they were blank, so this almost-emotion was significant enough to express… She didn't even want to think about it; it was too agonizing. She'd never know how he put up with her—couldn't even stand herself.

She had to get away from those almost-sad eyes of his. Before the guilt made her say something she'd regret. Something she convinced herself she'd regret but knew in her heart of hearts she'd love nothing more than to say.

"I'll go take a hot shower."

She turned from his warmth. Odd. Usually, his skin felt icy-cool to her.

"Arigatou…"

She knew he was watching her. Perhaps the guilt was enough so to allow her to allow him yet another torture…

_Thump-thump_.

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**A/N**  
"Minna wa?"—"Everyone is…?" or, in other words, "Where is everyone?"  
"Sou."—"I see."  
"Saya, daijoubu desu ka?"—Now that I think about it, the question mark wasn't necessary… "Saya, are you alright?"  
"Naka samui."—Okay, before anyone who more clearly understood Saya's mumbling, I don't know if "naka" is correct. It might've been "nakan" or "nakai". I seriously don't know for sure—it just sounded like "naka" to me. But, the translation _is_ "A bit cold", or "I'm a bit cold."  
"Samui desu?"—"Cold?"  
"Arigatou…"—"Thank you…"

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Reviews equal love~^^!


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